


Christmas With Crowley: All Of My Thoughts

by thegreatficmaster



Series: Christmas With Crowley [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addict Crowley (Supernatural), Angst, Blood and Gore, Depressed Crowley (Supernatural), Fluff, Love, M/M, Murder, Reader-Insert, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 13:16:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20310127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatficmaster/pseuds/thegreatficmaster
Summary: Y/n debates sending Crowley a text, thinking maybe he’d come off as desperate. But his friend, Chelsea, sets him straight.





	Christmas With Crowley: All Of My Thoughts

** _15th December 2013_ **

Crowley spent the past night in the hotel room, sat on the bed, drinking the whiskey he had to run back into the store for.

He had no idea what was happening.

The human blood had worn off.

Yet he still felt that warmth and longing, within what was meant to be his cold, black heart.

Was he developing feelings for a human? 

One based purely off his first run in with the man? 

Not even sex influencing it?

He shook his head, closing his eyes and willing the thoughts away.

This wasn’t going to happen. 

No way was he letting a human get into his mind, filling his thoughts, and making his heart ache for the need to be with him.

Nope. 

Not happening.

He pushed the thoughts away, lying in his bed as he tried his hardest to sleep.

“Y/n! Wake up!”

Y/n grumbled, rolling in his bed and trying to bury himself under the blanket, Chelsea not having any of it and pulling it off him.

“Seriously? We need to go! Like-right now!”

“Urgh! Bitch, I wanna sleep. You kept me up all night with your damn Christmas shopping. I’m so fucking tired!”

Chelsea just shook him a few times, until y/n had no choice but to give in, jumping out of bed and mumbling under his breath, going to the bathroom and cleaning up.

He got ready, Chelsea nagging him to do it faster, to hurry it up.

They drove into town, going to the mall and wandering around for hours, Chelsea trying to find the best presents for all her other friends and family.

Y/n did the same, making sure he read back texts he had sent to Ana and Orion, figuring out what they would want.

Sure, he’d have to send them in the post and probably fly the presents out so they could get to them.

But it was worth it.

“You got everything?”

Y/n nodded, checking the bags once more, before leaving to the car and driving home.

Once it got to around eight in the evening, y/n and Chelsea had settled on the couch, the fire lit and roaring in the cold day.

“So… who the hell is this dude?”

Y/n’s head shot up, staring at his friend.

“W-what guy?”

“Please. You’ve been all happy and smiley since yesterday. You took ages to get back from the store. And you’ve been checking your phone for a while now”.

Y/n sighed. 

She knew everything about him. Sometimes, it got annoying.

“Fine. I met him last night at the store. He was nice. Like, sweet as hell. And so cute. I mean, I never thought about going for older guys before, but this dude was different. He had this suit on. He looked important, y'know? And the beard? Urgh! You know I’ve always had a thing for guys with beards. And his is just amazing!”

Chelsea just watched as y/n went on and on, babbling about this British man dressed in black, the way he stuck around and joked along with y/n.

She was glad he was feeling like this again.

After the whole Ethan debacle, y/n cut off any feelings for men. 

He wouldn’t flirt. He would barely even talk to them, and would usually avoid anyone in hopes that he wouldn’t fall for them, only to get hurt again.

Of course, Chelsea was going to make sure she met this Crowley man, and be certain that he knew, if it did go anywhere with y/n, he better look after him.

“So-did you text him?”

Y/n shook his head, biting his lip and scrolling through his phone.

“I added him to my contacts. But I have no idea what to send him. I mean, wouldn’t it be weird, texting him less than 24 hours later? What if he thinks I’m some creepy, clingy dude, who’s gonna be hanging off him? Or he thinks I’m desperate? Urgh! What if this isn’t even his real number?”

She grabbed y/n’s hand to stop him babbling.

“Look at me. He’d be lucky to have you. And from what you’ve told me, he was the one who decided to stick around in the first place. Now, send him a text. Just say something like, _‘Hi, it’s y/n. from last night. Just wanted to check up on you’._”

Y/n nodded, typing the message out with shaky hands and sending it, the butterflies in his stomach growing as he got more nervous.

“What if he doesn’t message me back?”

“Dude. He doesn’t live by his phone. Just-let’s go watch a movie. We can watch anything you want. Leave the phone here and come back in a while. Don’t think about it”.

He nodded, knowing she was right, and getting off the couch to go upstairs and set up the TV, while she got the snacks ready and brought them up.

“Really? We’re watching Charmed? Again?”

Y/n shrugged, smiling and getting warm under the blanket, hoping the cold days would pass soon.

Crowley woke from his sleep, his head pounding from the aftereffects of the human blood.

He really needed to stop with it, and once again, made himself a promise that today wold be his first day sober.

Going about his day, collecting some souls, and finding the backstabbing bastards who betrayed him, he killed a few demons, letting off some steam, and took himself back to the hotel room.

The empty whiskey bottle reminded him that he really needed to get a new one. And also of y/n.

All day, his thoughts were mostly taken up by the man. 

Well, when he wasn’t murdering, that was.

He couldn’t help the urge to see him again, wishing he got y/n’s number as well.

That way, he wouldn’t be sat on his bed, waiting for a text or call.

The frustration built, until he needed something to take the edge off, kidnapping a teenage boy and draining him of his blood, his body hidden in the bathtub, while Crowley injected himself with the blood again.

It seemed this just built his frustration even more, the human personality that was fighting to emerge, heightening everything he was feeling.

He lay on his bed, his eyes closed as he thought about all the shit that was going on with his life.

Why didn’t he have anyone to care?

So what if he was a demon? 

Sam fucked that bitch Ruby. 

Dean had a damn child with an Amazon. 

Why was he the one that was never going to be cared for by them, only used for his help, before being tossed aside?

He had no idea why, but he just hoped, maybe he’d get someone to help him.

Almost an hour later, the effects had worn off, and the demonic rage began building, finding it unfair that he was having to deal with this, and also that y/n still hadn’t texted him.

He stormed out of the hotel room, hunting down one last demon for the night, and following her into an alley.

“Well-if it isn’t the failed King. What do you want, Crowley?”

Crowley clenched his jaw, the disrespect pissing him off.

“I am your King! And you will treat me as such”.

The woman laughed in his face, circling him and taunting him with her words.

He snapped, grabbing her by her throat and pushing her up against a wall.

“I am your King!”

His eyes glowed red, terrifying the woman as he shoved the angel blade into her stomach, the flickering of orange signifying she was dead.

She dropped to the floor, but Crowley wasn’t done.

He knelt down, jutting the knife into her corpse.

“I am your king!”

He ripped the blade out and plunged it back in once more with force.

“I deserve your loyalty”.

He stabbed her heart this time, piercing the already still organ and twisting the knife.

“I deserve to be respected”.

He pulled it back and shoved it into her abdomen with so much force, it pierced the concrete underneath her.

“I DESERVE TO BE LOVED!”

Her body was left mangled and torn apart, Crowley stumbling backwards with hurt and rage, taking himself back to his hotel room.

He stared at himself in the mirror again.

He’d picked up this habit, looking at his reflection, disgusted with the monster, the vile creature that now lived within him.

He failed his promise of today being the day he got sober. 

He always failed at everything.

The glass shattered when he screamed, the objects around him flying into the walls and breaking, his rage manifesting itself as a burst of energy.

His heart ached, hating that for the first time, he was having doubts about all of his decisions.

Why did the Winchesters have to do this to him? 

Why did they have to scramble his brains and emotions? 

Why couldn’t they just understand him?

The buzzing of his phone got his attention, Crowley picking it up and fumbling to switch it on, his slight sobbing making it more difficult.

Eventually, he managed to turn it on, an unknown number popping up.

He unlocked the phone, clicking on the message, and read it.

_‘Hey, Crowley. It’s y/n. The guy from last night. At the store. I don’t know if you remember, to be honest. But if you do, I just wanted to say hi. See how you were doing. If not, then just ignore this’._

The words lifted from the screen and made their way to his heart, warming it.

Someone was finally wondering how he was. 

Someone who wasn’t judging him. 

Someone seemed to care.

Granted, y/n had no idea he was a demon and knew nothing of all the lives he had taken, but he couldn’t help but smile as happy tears began forming.

He was about to send a reply, but thought better of it, and snapped his fingers, taking himself to the same store he had met y/n.

He looked through the store, until he found the perfect gift.

It was silly. 

He didn’t even know y/n, or what he’d like.

But he liked the idea of it.

Setting the parcel down on y/n’s porch, he stood across the street in the dark after ringing the bell and watched.

The bell rang, interrupting y/n’s Charmed time.

Chelsea nudged him, but he just waved her off as she got up and huffed, going down to open the door.

“Who is it?”

When she got no answer, she looked through the peephole and saw nothing.

She wasn’t stupid of course. 

She grabbed a baseball bat and opened the door slowly.

“Hello. Is anyone there?”

No one answered, and she peeked her head out, not seeing anyone around, until she looked down, the small parcel getting her attention.

“Y/n! Come here! Eight now!”

She heard the rushed steps and stumbling of her best friend as he ran down the stairs.

“What the hell is it?”

Her head pointed in the direction of the parcel, y/n’s eyes darting to it.

“Who left that there?”

“Like I know. You think we should open it?”

Y/n shrugged.

“I don’t know. What if it’s like an ear or something”.

Chelsea chuckled, shaking her head.

“Do we know the mafia?”

Y/n rolled his eyes and stepped forward, picking it up and shaking it.

“There’s no sound”.

He ripped the wrapping paper and held the material.

“Who the hell leaves patterned pyjamas on someone’s porch?”

Y/n didn’t say anything, holding the rather large card in his hand and turning it, smiling when he read the words written there.

_‘Thought these might be fitting for this time of year. I’ll be wearing my matching ones tonight. Hope you do too. Enjoy, pet. P.S. I’m not a stalker. I might have looked you up and found out where you lived. But I promise, I’m really not a stalker. Well, that sounds bad. But-just trust me-Crowley’._

“He is such a moron”.

“Who?”

“Crowley!”

Chelsea squealed, ripping the card from his hand and reading it herself, melting at the cuteness, but getting kind of weirded out by the end of it.

“Ok. That’s kinda creepy, right?”

“No. It’s sweet”, y/n fawned, too biased, thinking of the cute British man he had on his mind almost all day.

“You met him last night. And he found out where we lived. And left a present. That’s weird. He better not try to kill us tonight. I’ve got Lucille with me. Ain’t no one messing with us”.

Y/n shoved her lightly, chuckling, before going upstairs, changing into his new pyjamas and admiring how cute it was.

He took a quick picture of himself in the mirror.

_‘Hey, Crowley. I love the present. Thank you so much. I’m gonna need your address, so I can send something to you. Oh, and gimme a pic. I wanna see how adorable you look’._

He sent the message, along with the picture, and set the phone on the bedside table, Chelsea coming back in and settling back into the bed.

They carried on watching the episode, until the buzzing distracted him.

Chelsea watched in shock as y/n simply ignored his favourite show of all time, to text some guy.

He was way too infatuated with this man.

But she was kind of glad.

It was nice to see him happy again, feeling comfortable with him.

Sure, she’d need to make sure he wasn’t some weird murderer. 

But she had a feeling this Crowley was going to be good for y/n.

“Chels! Chels, look at this”.

He showed her his phone, seeing a picture of this Crowley man in patterned green and red pyjamas. 

The same ones as y/n’s, except his ones were red where Crowley’s were green, green where Crowley’s were red.

The man was of course, hot. 

Completely different to the guys y/n usually went for.

But she thought that might be a good thing.

The rest of the night was spent with y/n distracted by his phone, smiling widely and giggling quietly, while Chelsea just watched her best friend, grinning at his happiness.


End file.
